Replaying both games put a lot of things in perspective...

oh god okay so this one is also ryuzo/jin but i feel like it needs more of an explainer because i am probably skirting SOME kind of line with it, in that it’s intentionally playing with the social expectations of queer relationships in the era GoT is set, namely the class and age expectations of who’s doing what, and how that doesn’t play so nice with the issues ryuzo ALREADY has in terms of his internalized class angst:

Ryuzo scoffs, incredulous and annoyed. “Of course. All you have to do to get something is want it,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “I’m not about to lay back and play the boy for you just because your eyes finally started working.”

“I didn't…” Jin trails off, shameful heat roiling in his gut. He pulls his hand back to his lap, mutters, “You’re older than me, anyway.” By barely more than a year, but that's not the point.

Ryuzo’s gaze sharpens, that intensity back in full force. “I am,” he says slowly. Jin’s the one to look away now. “And I know better than you do how the world works.”

Jin scowls, nettled—there’s only so often he’d like to hear how little he knows. “Yes, you’ll be going grey with all your wisdom any day now,” he says to the fire, fighting the petulant urge to cross his arms and pull his knees to his chest.

“Which means,” Ryuzo says over Jin’s grumbling, “that you would be my boy.”

wow you guys really wanna know about the sex pollen huh 😏😏😏 [@adriansfrombrooklyn @ing you since i capped your ask]

it IS essentially what it says on the tin, but it’s ghost of tsushima, not patho! ryuzo/jin, because I Love Them

The sound of a box snapping shut catches his attention, and he turns just in time to see Jin land flat on his ass, startled out of a crouch by… something.

Someone behind Ryuzo snickers, low and cut off. “Alright, samurai?” Shinzo asks, and it sounds genuine enough, but Ryuzo shoots his men a quelling look over his shoulder anyway. He only catches one or two eye rolls, most of them busy digging through crates and barrels in search of anything resembling food.

“Fine,” Jin mutters as he gets to his feet. When Ryuzo approaches there’s a faint flush of embarrassment to Jin’s face, but he doesn't look annoyed—sheepish, more than anything else. So Ryuzo just raises his eyebrows. “Some kind of powder,” Jin says by way of explanation, “kicked up when I opened the chest.” He tips his chin at it, a little wooden box tucked in the corner of the ger, with purple winglike designs scrawled along its surface.

It’s not any of the Mongol sigils Ryuzo recognizes, but… Jin doesn't need to know he recognizes any of them. “Find something edible after all?” he says instead with a smirk, expecting Jin to laugh along with him. A badly-tied flour sack exploding in Jin’s face makes as much sense as anything else he could've dug up in there.

But Jin just frowns and shakes his head, slow, like a dog shaking off water. “No, it was… floral,” he murmurs, something like confusion staining his voice. Ryuzo frowns too, gaze catching on the color still staining Jin's cheeks. Something’s wrong, he thinks, an instant before Jin’s eyes roll back in his head and his face goes pale and bloodless.